


Cat Scratch

by Spectascopes



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Babybones (Undertale), Big Brother Papyrus, Bitty Bones, BittyBones, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Rescue, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, babybones!sans - Freeform, sans is a little bitty baby bean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 21:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11426517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectascopes/pseuds/Spectascopes
Summary: You find a couple of skeletons in the alley behind your apartment.





	Cat Scratch

**Author's Note:**

> I love bittybones so much, this little one-off is for [stuffedart](http://stuffedart.tumblr.com/) because their bittybones stuff AND their fell bros stuff is 1000/10 and I asked if i could write a little fic based on [some](http://stuffedart.tumblr.com/post/155832205184/heres-the-rest-of-the-uf-bitty-requests-onto) [pictures](http://stuffedart.tumblr.com/post/156008753404/whats-wrong-with-lil-bitty-pap-in-the-first) they've done, and they said I could include them in the fic! So here's a fic with some visuals, for all you visual learners out there~~
> 
> (big thanks to [grumbledork](http://grumbledork.tumblr.com/) for proofreading this and doing an absolute bangin' job! <3

 

You were used to finding weird things in the alley behind your apartment complex. Plenty of degenerates dumped their garbage there despite the perfectly usable dumpster at the end of it. The distance was too far to walk, you guessed. 

When you happened to go out that way to save a block of walking on your way to work, a plethora of new trash greeted you. An old coach, or a bag of diapers that stunk up the place until some unfortunate soul had to clean it up. Sometimes stray cats would find their way back there to rummage for food. Once you’d narrowly avoided being sprayed by a skunk. How the damn thing had managed to get into the middle of a city without getting flattened by a car, you had no idea, but it was gone by the next day. 

You didn’t mind it, honestly. It was one of life’s simple treasures- the thrill of discovering just what in the world people were willing to dump in an alleyway. 

It was late, you’d worked later than usual, and you were exhausted. Against your better judgement, you skipped the walk to the front of the building and elected to go in through the back, saving yourself a few dozen steps. You had the key in the hole and your hand on the knob before you heard something.

You sighed. It was a stray cat, hissing and growling in the darkness. Probably two males fighting. Pulling your key from your bag, you stepped over into the narrow street and went about resolving the dispute.

“Hey- cut it out back there, shoo,” you called. A dirty yellow light on the side of the building was the only thing keeping the alley lit, so when you came around to the other side of an abandoned washing machine, it took you a moment to see what was causing the commotion. 

The cat spotted you immediately and ran for it, easily vaulting the wooden plank fence at the back of the alley and disappearing. There was a bit of movement, and as your eyes adjusted further you picked out the miniscule frame of a skeleton sitting on the soiled pavement. It was trembling on the ground, clutching a scrap of threadbare fabric to its chest as it glared up at you.

Some of your friends had bitties, so you recognized it for what it was. It looked like a Boss- a scrawny runt of a Boss, though. It looked young- shorter than most you’d seen, with less prominent cheekbones and a childish look about it. You squatted down to look at it more closely, and the skeleton immediately scrabbled away from you. As its leg was jostled, it hissed in pain.

You reached into your back pocket and grabbed your phone, quickly turning the flashlight on and shining it at the bitty. Its eyes squeezed shut and it flinched away from the brightness. Two things immediately stood out to you:

An incredibly, unbelievably tiny baby was wrapped up and pressed to his chest, being fervently protected even as the bitty’s knee was wounded and bleeding.

“Oh man…” you breathed after a moment, turning the flashlight away so it didn’t blind the little guy and his even littler charge. You reached out to pick them up.

“D-Don’t touch me!” the bitty yelped. It might have been forceful if it wasn’t for the way his voice cracked. His whole body was shaking- you could see the fear in his little eyes even as he tried to disguise it as aggression.

You pulled your hand away. “Oh… okay,” you reacted lamely, unprepared for him to be so snappy. You looked at the little bundle in his arms, only the top of its white skull visible past the cloth. “Is… is that your baby?”

The bitty glared at you with renewed vigor, turning himself to keep his precious cargo as far from you as possible. “Leave him alone,” he said, but it sounded more like a whine.

“...Okay,” you said again, completely at a loss. Bitties were supposed to be friendly, right? Your friend’s skeletons were, at least. You moved down to your knees, legs protesting the continued squat. “What happened to your leg?”

“Nothing! I’m fine,” he spat, voice still high and full of fear. “Leave us alone.”

“I… uhm.” You scratched the back of your neck. “You’re hurt, little dude.”

“No I’m not!” he hissed. He was sweating, and you swear you saw tears pricking at his sockets. 

“You can’t care for a baby when you’re injured…” you ventured quietly. Maybe if you pressed the right buttons, he’d let you take him inside where it was safe.

“I’m not  _ hurt! _ ” he screeched, but the tears spilled over. The bundle at his chest squirmed a little, and you heard soft whimpering sounds come from it. The older skeleton grabbed it tighter and shook his head. “I’m not hurt, leave us alone- d-don’t you dare touch him-”

“Okay, I won’t, I promise,” you said to appease him. You scooted a little closer, well aware that you’d have to wash your pants after this was done. “But your knee…”

The bitty did nothing, just sat and shook and cried. He didn’t seem too keen on answering you.

“Can I take you back to my apartment? If that cat comes back you might not be able to fight it off,” you elaborated. It wasn’t like he’d been able to fight it off in the first place, let alone with an injury of his degree.

He glared at the ground, the child  in his arms quietly fussing. God it was so small, it would be so easy for it to get hurt. You stared at them for a moment, but the bitty didn’t reply.

“I promise I won’t hurt you…” you offered softly. “I don’t want you or your baby to get hurt.”

The bitty glanced up at you, eyes still wary and scared but looking a little less so. He sniffled and loosened his hold on the baby, reaching up with one hand to wipe his tears away.

“I-It’s not mine...,” he croaked. “It’s my brother.”

“Oh, okay… he’s super small,” you said, mentally slapping yourself for being such an awkward mess.

The Boss bitty stared at the floor for a while. You shifted closer, aware that his knee really needed some attention, but you didn’t want to press him.

“...Can I pick you up now? I can fix your knee up or something if we go back to my apartment.”

He was still shaking, but he gave a tense nod and let out a shuddering breath. You reached forward, as slowly as you could, and maneuvered him into your hands. He was so small- maybe three inches or so. His clothes were tattered and torn, and you could feel his bones pressing through them. He shut his eyes tight like he was preparing for you to up and drop him on the pavement. All you did was shift him onto one of your hands and bring him close to your chest, trying to be mindful of his injury. 

You rose again, giving the alley a quick look before hurrying back to the door and plucking the key from your bag to unlock it. The bitty was breathing heavily, and now that you were holding him you could feel his whole frame trembling. Poor thing- you tried to be as  speedy as you could about getting him back to your apartment without jostling him and his baby brother too much.

A flight of stairs and another locked door later, you were in your apartment. The space was small and by no means a hospital for street-bitties, but it made you feel better about the situation now that you were somewhere familiar. The chill of the alley was driven away by the warmth, and you quickly went to the kitchen where you kept your limited first aid supplies and gently eased the skeleton onto the countertop.

He seemed relieved to be back on solid ground. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you dug around in your cupboard- he was looking around like something might leap out and attack him, eyes wide and full of a heart-wrenching fear. 

You finally pulled out all the things you’d need- you fished out the bandages and alcohol wipes to clean the wound, grabbing a pair of scissors from a nearby drawer. The bitty watched your every move, trembling.

“Okay- here, I’ve got this stuff to patch your leg up,” you said, gesturing to the array of things you’d gotten. “Could you uh… maybe take your pants off or something?” 

He looked away. He seemed so damn tiny, curled on the countertop. You held up your hands.

“I’ll grab a cloth or something to cover up with- after we get your leg taken care of maybe I could, uh, wash your clothes or something? They’re a little dirty.”

Still, he said nothing. You went to another drawer nearby and grabbed an old washcloth, setting it down beside him as you turned away.

“Okay, just… take off your pants, please, and cover yourself up with the cloth, then I can work on your leg,” you said.

You waited a moment, but you heard him shuffling around. You waited until it was quiet again before turning back, the doll-sized pair of pants sitting on the counter while the bitty shook. He still held the baby in his arms. You decided it wouldn’t hurt anything, so you moved closer inspected his wound.

It was deep and still oozing blood, or what you assumed was blood, but hopefully not life threatening. It was right below the knee, on the front of his leg, running near diagonally. You grabbed one of the wipes and opened it up.

“Hmm… I’m gonna clean it up a little and then bandage it, okay?” you asked, plucking the wipe from the packet. “This might sting a little bit.”

The bitty stared down at the counter, nodding again. You took that as a sign that it was okay to begin, so you reached down and gently held his foot with one hand while using the other to press the wipe gently to his injury.

He whimpered, fresh tears gathering in his sockets, and you pulled away immediately.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I-I’m fine,” he said with a sniffle, holding his brother tighter. “Keep going.”

You waited a moment to make sure it was okay, but you did as you were told. He hissed as you pressed the cold fabric to his wound again, but it only took a few moments to wipe off the blood and clean the surrounding bone. When you finished it looked infinitely better, the whiteness of the clean bone standing out sharply against the dirty ones.

You used the scissors to quickly cut off a strip of bandage, cutting it length-wise as well so it wouldn’t be too wide for the skeleton’s short little leg. You bandaged him up, securing the cloth as tight as you dared, and then withdrew from him to put your supplies away. While you did so, he shifted and put his pants back on, setting his brother down close beside him.

“Okay- there, that should do it. How does it feel?”

“...Better,” the little guy relented. 

If he was going to say anything further, it was cut off as the baby began to fuss. The bitty was quick to pick him up again and hold him close.

This time, his rocking didn’t do much to quell the little noises. After a moment the thing started wailing- not nearly as loud as a full sized human baby would have, but still a sad noise nonetheless.

“Shh, Sans, i-it’s okay,” the bitty began to coo, but he kept looking up at you like you would be mad at him. 

The baby didn’t seem to care, he just cried louder.

“Is he okay?” you asked, leaning on the counter so you could get a better look at the little thing. Dear god it was so impossibly small- bitties were small enough as adults, you’d never seen a child before.

“H-He’s fine… he’s probably hungry,” the elder of the two said, voice shaking with nerves. 

“How long’s it been since he ate?” 

The bitty looked away. “A… A couple days? Maybe? I’ve been getting him to drink water but...”

Poor thing. “What does he eat? Can he eat solid food yet?”

“He… I… I don’t know…” the Boss said. More tears fell as he held his baby brother, and your heart clenched at the sight.

You knew you were probably getting into something that was more than you could handle, but you couldn’t just leave the brothers on the street to die. 

“I’ll run to the store and get some formula for him, that’s probably the best bet,” you affirmed. 

The ragged skeleton looked up at you sharply, eyes wide, but this time not with fear. 

“You guys can chill in here- the couch is really comfy.”

He stared. “Y...You’ll feed him?” he asked under his breath. 

“Yeah… there’s a store just down the street, I get my groceries there. I’ll go buy him some baby stuff. Do you want to try giving him something to drink? I’ve got… uh, orange juice, water… but I’ll be back in like ten minutes, if you just want to wait.”

He stared up at you, the baby in his arms still fussing a little, but it just didn’t seem to have the strength to keep crying. He didn’t respond.

“...Okay… lets just wait till I’ve got the formula,” you said. “Can I pick you up again? The couch is a lot more comfy than the counter.”

He just nodded, at a loss for words. You gently scooped him into your palms, walking over to your little living area and depositing him and his baby brother gently on the couch. He never stopped shaking, but at least the both of them were safe from stray cats and starving to death.

“I’ll be right back…” you blinked. “Oh, hey, what’s your name, little guy?”

“I-It’s Papyrus…” he said, then swallowed and shifted his brother a bit. “This is Sans.”

You nodded. “Okay. I’ll be right back, Papyrus. You two just stay put here, okay?”

He nodded.

You nodded back.

Goodness, this was going to be weird.

 

The young woman working at the store didn’t even bat an eye at your strange combination of baby formula and a small bottle made for kittens to nurse from.

“We have kitten formula,” she said, ringing you up anyways. It was almost ten, poor girl probably just wanted to go home and sleep.

“It’s for a bitty,” you said. She hummed, and you weren’t even sure she’d heard you speak, but you didn’t complain. You paid for your things and hurried back to the apartment, hoping this would work. 

The two were just where you’d left them. Papyrus was rocking his brother, but when you approached he went still and eyed you.

“Okay- I’ve got formula, and this little bottle that hopefully he’ll be able to drink from,” you said, holding up your plastic bag with your loot. “Can I pick you up? It might be easier to feed him at the counter.”

Papyrus nodded, and you put the bag around your wrist and reached forward to scoop him up. Sans made a soft noise in his blanket burrito. 

You sat the two down near the sink and got the can of formula out. You’d never had a kid, but you’d babysat some in high school, so you sort of knew how to make this stuff. You looked at the directions and realized that you should have bought a normal bottle. Measuring this stuff out in a tiny bottle for newborn kittens was going to be hard. 

You washed your hands like the directions said to, turning the sink on so the water got warm. Papyrus watched you warily, flinching at the sound of the faucet going. 

“Okay… well, this might not be exactly how you’re supposed to do it, but it should be okay…” you said as you put a bit of water in the bottle and added what you approximated was the correct amount of formula, judging by what the directions said. You had to go digging for a needle to poke a hole in the nipple with, but eventually you found one and replaced the cap on the bottle, shaking it up until everything was blended.

You had no idea how to actually go about feeding the little skeleton, though. The bottle was twice his size, and the nipple was huge. You frowned.

“Okay… this might get a little bit messy, but you hold him and I’ll try to get some of this in his mouth, alright?” you asked. 

Papyrus held his brother close. You noted that he was shaking again.

“Promise y-you won’t hurt him?” the little guy asked. His guard seemed to be cracking at the promise of food and shelter for his baby brother.

“Promise.” You held out your pinkie with the hand that wasn’t holding a baby bottle.

He stared you down for a second before reaching out his own hand and touching his pinkie to yours. It was the closest either of you could manage, what with the size difference and all.

The bitty hesitantly unwrapped his brother, and you got a good look at the little thing for the first time.

“Awww…” you breathed, leaning closer to see him. “He’s so cute…”

He was so small, like an oversized bean. He wasn’t as dirty as his brother, but you attributed that to how well Papyrus seemed to be taking care of him. The baby looked up at you with big sockets, red eyelights tired but curious. He wasn’t as fat as a baby should have been, but he was a skeleton… you didn’t have much experience with skeleton babies. Still, once he was free from his swaddle he reached up and stretched a bit, tiny baby hands grasping at the air.

“How old is he?” you asked as you reached over and grabbed the cloth the elder had used to cover himself earlier. 

“I-I think he’s… eight months or so,” Papyrus said.

“How old are you, then?” you asked. “I’ve met a few bitties before, but you seem younger.”

“I’m sixteen…” Papyrus said softly. Your heart ached- this poor kid. He looked up at you. “Uhm… how old are you?”

“I’m twenty eight,” you said, bringing the cloth over and resting it on top of Sans, hoping it would catch any of the mess this was probably going to make. 

Papyrus nodded, shy. You took the bottle, careful not to jostle anything, and laid it against the tiny little things mouth. He turned away, and you frowned.

“I-It’s okay, Sans- it’s food.” Papyrus reached up and turned his brother’s head back to the nipple. “You have to drink it.”

It was too big for him to latch on. You took some prerogative and squeezed, a bead of the liquid gathering at the baby’s mouth. He opened his mouth to fuss and it went in, and suddenly his eyes went wide and he was reaching up with his stubby little hands and grasping at the nipple as best he could. You nearly cried seeing his hands- they were so impossibly small.

Papyrus actually did cry, watching in tangible relief as his brother drank, albeit in a very messy way. 

You let Sans drink for a while, but you didn’t want him to get sick. When he started to slow down you drew the bottle away. The baby had hardly made a dent in the liquid, but he wasn’t crying anymore.

“You should probably try to burp him,” you said softly. 

Papyrus looked at you and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to understand that he didn’t know how.

“You just put him over your shoulder, so his heads up here-” you gestured with your own hands to show what you meant- “and then you rub his back so the food settles right.”

Papyrus nodded, immediately doing as he was told and leaning his brother against his shoulder, rubbing his back. You were glad he trusted you enough to take your advice- that was a good sign.

“You must be hungry, too,” you said, tossing the formula-covered cloth into the sink. “I’ve got some crackers and water and stuff, do you want some?”

“Y-Yes, please,” he said. Maybe he’d tried to keep the desperation from his voice, but you heard it anyways. You reached up into the cupboard and got some crackers out- the good kind, not saltines or anything like that. These were buttery and good, you snacked on them all the time. You sat one down beside him, and then went about trying to find something to put water in that he could drink from. You ended up with a shot glass you’d bought as a souvenir at one point.

Papyrus patted his brother’s back for a while. He blinked after a second.

“He burped,” the bitty said as he looked up at you.

“You can probably stop, then,” you said, leaning over the counter but giving the two their space. “You should eat something.”

He nodded and carefully sat his brother in his lap before starting into the cracker like a hungry dog. Poor little dude. He had to lean over so he didn’t cover his brother in crumbs, but he had the two gone in hardly more than a minute. He chugged as much of the water as he could, but he looked to be getting full.

It was quiet for a moment. You were starting to nod off, tired from the long day at work and the hectic mess finding the two skeletons had left you in. You looked down at them to see Papyrus holding his brother once more, looking down at him softly before catching your eye.

“Th-thank you, human,” he said softly. You gave him a tired smile.

“No prob, Bob,” you said. “You tired?”

“...Yeah,” he said hesitantly. “You can put us back in the alley- we can… we can probably find somewhere to sleep…” he said, but he clutched his brother tighter and you knew he didn’t want to leave.

“Why don’t you stay here for tonight?” you offered gently. “I’ve still got a lot of formula left, it’d be a waste if your little bro didn’t drink it… s’not like you guys take up too much room,” you said with a little wink.

“I… I…” he stammered, and then looked away. He refused to meet your eyes when he spoke again, so small from the countertop. “A-Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you said at once. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt out there again- those cats are gonna be out all night.”

Papyrus nodded, and you pretended not to see the tears pricking his eyes. You had an idea and quickly went over to your bedroom and snagged a couple of old t-shirts and the cleanest sock you had. Papyrus watched you as you emerged again, but you ignored him for a second. The couch could only be so comfortable on its own... 

When you went back to him and scooped him up (with his permission, of course) he seemed curious as to what you’d done. You took him and his baby brother to the couch and deposited them gently. 

“Ta-da! It’s a little bed- you can use the sock as a sleeping bag, if you want, and the t-shirt can be a pillow.” You eased Papyrus down near your make-shift bitty bed. “Do you think it’ll be good for the night?”

Papyrus stared at it for quite a long time. Then he stared at you. And then the bed again. He cried a little, but quickly wiped them away and nodded.

“I-It’s perfect,” he said. You smiled and helped him and his brother into the sock, still mindful of his knee. 

  


“Comfy?” you asked.

He nodded as he eased himself down, keeping Sans nearby. The baby was already dozing, apparently content to have a full belly and a warm place to snuggle into. Papyrus yawned, and you noticed how cute his little fangs were.

“Seems like it's bedtime,” you said, giving them a tired smile. “If you need anything, just yell.”

Papyrus nodded, and the tiniest of tiny smiles touched his face.

“Thank you,” he said softly, a red blush on his face. He snuggled into your sock, and you smiled right back. Sans made a quiet noise in his sleep.

“No problem,” you replied, turning on the nearby lamp and flicking off the main light.

You were always jealous of your friend’s bitties. At this rate, you might end up with two of your own.


End file.
